Wonderland Shorts
by Willow Skye
Summary: A collection of short stories/drabbles, in the same universe as my main story, Delphiniums for Three. Reading that is not required to understand these, so enjoy! Setting is Wonderland unless otherwise stated. Many characters used, not just Alice/Hatter. Complete for now; however, other one-shots may be added in the future.
1. Tag

_AN: Don't own anything recognizable, I'm just taking them out to play. Inspired heavily by When Curiosity Met Insanity by Brianna and Rain, and Sunny Disposish by valadilenne. Enjoy! I'll be posting more of these later on._

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Reds. Greens. Purples. Oranges. These were the colors that made up the Tulgey Woods, and it was here that they played their most favorite game: tag. The endlessly tall trees were their only witnesses as they darted behind bushes and into small tunnels, all in the effort to avoid being caught. She was almost always It; her blue skirts didn't quite blend in as well as his green trousers and orange coat, making her infinitely more easy to spot. But Lyss never minded, she was simply happy to be playing the game.

Over time, their methods of concealment became better and better, their stealth became stealthier, their sneak became sneakier. Sometimes their little game would take all day to complete; sometimes one of the pair would be It for hours on end before ever coming across the other again. When they did find each other, though, all of the pent up adrenaline and saved energy bust out of nowhere and they chased each other through the trees, their feet stomping on the ground, with little care to watch for momeraths, and all propriety was lost as they sprinted. In those moments, they felt like they could fly-and the Hatter nearly did a few times, his coat billowed behind him so much. He was wicked fast and always a tease, throwing taunts at her as they ran regardless of whether or not he was running away from or running at her.

They didn't always play tag, of course, as they were constantly busy doing something or other, but on this particular day, they were indulging in the game, and had been for several hours already. Lyss was It once again, and, despite all of her efforts, she simply could not find her companion. The last she had seen of him, he had been looking over his shoulder at her, teasing her speed mercilessly while she attributed it all to her stupid corset, and then he had suddenly vanished out of sight. Lyss kept running, certain that she would find him soon and that he had just hidden himself particularly well this time.

That was three hours ago.

She felt that she had searched the entire Tulgey Wood, had looked behind every tree and in every cavern and under every rock. He was nowhere. She had called out a few times, saying, "I give up, you can come out now!" and, "Really, now, where have you gone? It's nearly tea-time! You win!" Her stomach was becoming quite vocal and her throat was getting dry. She had stopped running ages ago; she was much too tired to continue their little game. _Perhaps he went to the Hare's for tea_, she thought, certain that, of all people, he would _not_ miss afternoon tea, and with that thought, she marched decidedly out of the woods towards the Hare's house, hoping that he would not mind that her hair had fallen out of its braid and that her cheeks were flushed. She trudged through the woods under the thick canopy of color, calling out to the Hatter every so often just in case.

When she arrived at the Hare's little gate to the backyard, she was surprised to see that only the Hare was seated at the long table, sipping from a bright yellow teacup and munching on a small sandwich of some sort. She opened the gate cautiously, craning her neck to peer in the windows at the house's interior, hoping that the Hatter was making yet another unfortunate attempt at baking scones or something, and yet, she saw nothing but the lacy, gently wafting curtains. Lyss crossed her arms and huffed; at this point, she was quite annoyed with the man and had nearly forgotten that the Hare was even there. It was only the clank of his teacup returning to its saucer that made her remember that she was not alone and that she was quite hungry. She turned to the Hare and casually walked up to the table and sat, knowing by now that she was welcome and needn't ask to sit. A certain scone looked particularly delectable, and she took it and began eating wordlessly, taking more food every now and then. Finally, she very casually asked the Hare, in an attempt to mask her curiosity, "Has Hatter been here at all?"

He looked at her over the rim of his teacup, "Not at all. I thought you were both spending the day in the woods."

"We were," she began, genuine worry lining her features, "I lost him. I thought he might have ended up back here, but..." she trailed off, glancing beyond the gated backyard and into the woods just beyond it. She looked down at the table and its delightful spread, and then an idea struck her. Lyss began gathering as much food as she could hold, and when she was satisfied, she marched off into the woods, balancing a cup filled with tea on her head. The Hare simply resumed his tea; he had long ago given up questioning the pair and made it a habit not to.

It was somewhere in the general middle of the woods that she stopped, at a nice little clearing. She laid the food out carefully on the ground after spreading her handkerchief down first so as not to dirty the offering. Surely he too had to be hungry at this point, or at least craving a cup of tea. When she was satisfied with the arrangement, she went to the nearest tree and leaned against it, facing the food, not bothering to conceal herself. She was quite comfortable, and, having just eaten quite an impressive amount of food, she found herself drifting off.

Lyss awoke to a large shadow standing over her, and she looked up to see that he had finally found her. He had a teacup in his hand, but not the one that she had laid out, and was looking at her rather curiously, his face full of a seriousness that did not suit him.

"It's about time you came out of your hiding spot," she said, a mild sternness in her voice. His face broke into a smile and he laughed, shaking his head a bit.

"You passed by me no fewer than ten times," he informed her.

She stood up and dusted off her skirts, "It's not my fault you blend in so well. And where did you get the tea?" she asked. He arched his eyebrow at her, giving her a look she was all too familiar with. She sighed, "Oh. Right. I forget sometimes," she said.

He smiled, "It's quite alright." The Hatter took a sip of his tea and gave a satisfied sigh afterward. "Would you like any?" he asked, indicating to his teacup.

"I'm quite alright, thank you," Lyss replied, the propriety lost during their game of tag slowly catching up with her, "What do you suggest we do now?"

The Hatter looked around at the stretching trees, craning his neck in a failed attempt to see the tops of them, and then looked back at Lyss. He took another long draught of his tea, finishing the last drops, and then tossed the teacup aside. "Well," he began, "Did you really mean it when you said you forfeited the game?" he asked, a spark of something glinting behind his eyes. Lyss smiled, and curled her finger at him, beckoning him to lean down so that she could whisper in his ear. He leaned forward all too eagerly to hear what she had to say.

Softly, she whispered, "No," and then, rather unexpectedly and suddenly, she slammed her hand onto his chest and screamed, "YOU'RE IT," and darted away as fast as she possibly could. The Hatter only shook his head, and ran after her after giving her a small head start (she was always _so_ disappointed when he caught up to her), doing his best to keep her billowing blue skirts in his sight. As he ran, he grinned to himself, thinking that there was nothing like a good game of tag in the Tulgey Woods.


	2. Finishing Thoughts

_Author's Note: As originally written, this is a dialogue between Alice (who begins the conversation) and the Mad Hatter. Others have also told me that they read it as the March Hare and the Mad Hatter, and there are still plenty of other interpretations to be had. Read it with whichever two characters you want to be talking! Any and all interpretations are fine with me. Enjoy!_

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Afternoon. Teatime. Sitting. Sipping. Pair. Duo. Two. Contemplation. Exasperation. Gestures and hands, loud and frustrated. Avoidance and casual interest, reading the paper.

"I cannot stand that woman!" Clank clank as the cup connects with the saucer. "She's an absolute pain! A shrew! A nag! A...a..."

"Termagant?"

"Yes, precisely! A _termagant_! And to think she's gotten where she has! I've no clue how you tolerate her, really. And for all these years."

"Many years, indeed."

"I suppose one must get used to it, that's the only logical explanation, really."

"Quite." Rustling paper as the page is turned. It's the same issue that was published yesterday. Sentence first and verdict after.

"Anything interesting?"

"Nope."

"Unfortunate."

"Rather."

"Perhaps we ought to go cause something news-worthy today. Although it is the afternoon. It's far too late for that. Maybe tomorrow."

"Mhmm."

"There must be something interesting in that paper. You're reading it rather discerningly."

"Or perhaps I'm just staring at the pages and having grandiose thoughts."

"Oh, I suppose you might be. I hadn't thought of that."

"Not very discerning of you."

"Or perspicacious." A soft smile at the word. Another round won. All tied up now even if only one was aware of the game.

"Purse pie cake shucks."

"That's not how it's pronounced."

"I'm aware."

"Then why not say it properly?"

"It's much more fun this way."

"Where are your manners?" (Pooh asked of Tigger)

"I don't know, but I bet they're having more fun than I am."

"Are you not having fun?"

"It's debatable."

"Then set down that silly paper and let's be off on a grand adventure!" A look, an eyebrow. Sheets folding and tossed aside. Springing from the seat with a grin. Arm shooting up, pointing to the sky. This is victory.

"Truncate the teatime!"

"Dash it all!"

"Let's have adventures!"

"An idea I can verily get behind!"

"And in front of!"

"Away!"

Such were the musings of very good friends.


	3. Origins

_Author's Note: Some backstory interpretation for the Queen of Hearts. The first sentence was prompted by one of my friends. Enjoy and please review!_

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And they danced, oh how they danced, his face emotionless and hers sobbing between the steps. As they twirled, she focused on the faces of those around them; each was plastered with a smile, only some seemed genuine. She was supposed to be happy, this she knew, and yet she could not stop the tears from falling as they waltzed. The room was well lit and cheerful, and yet its atmosphere could not reach her. Inside, she felt cold and numb, a feeling she was not used to, but one she knew, without a doubt, that she would become accustomed to. She looked up at his face through a curtain of tears, and saw it drawn in a perfectly neutral composition. His mouth was a taut line, his eyes were unfocused and uninterested, his nostrils didn't even flare as he breathed.

_This is the man I've married_, she thought, and her eyes watered even more at the thought. It was depressing, to know that this was her life now, that she hadn't had a choice in the matter.

And that wasn't even the worst part, oh no. The worst part, in fact, had his eyes glued to the woman in white. This outsider had his hands clenched into fists, his nails dug at the flesh of his palm, and yet he maintained the fake, plastic smile as he watched the couple dance. The Knave of Hearts had stolen much more than just the tarts. But no one, _no one_, could ever know _that_.

And so she waltzed with as much happiness as she could muster, which was none, and let her tears stain her dress. She felt a silent vow emerge from the depths of her thoughts; she had thought it before but had never taken it seriously before then. Her tears dried as she quietly took it, and a small smile even managed to creep onto her lips. The vow was this: she would never be happy again, and no one else would be either. The smile grew wider until she looked downright happy. His misery would be her joy, his suffering her euphoria. She had power now, power that could not be taken away, and hell if she wasn't going to use it. A short laugh escaped her lips as she thought, _Off with their heads_. The audience remained plastic except for the outsider, who saw her face and knew that she would earn the red of her card. The band played on and the waltz continued as her tears dried and her thoughts turned bloody. Her husband remained unaware, his face maintaining its careful composure as hers spiraled into maniacal glee.

Thus was the ballad of she and him.


	4. In The Golden Afternoon

_Author's Note: This short is set more in my Delphiniums for Three universe, where the Alice character is 20 and the Hatter has been stuck in a timeless sort of Wonderland. It's basically all fluff. I apologize for shipping them so hard. I can't help it! This was another prompt, based on the first sentence of the fic. Please enjoy!_

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His expression was unreadable-Alice couldn't tell if he was going to swoop her up into a victory waltz or fly off the handle and into a rage. The Hatter's cheeks were flushed a cherry red, making him even harder to read, though she imagined that her own cheeks were much the same. Her side was impossibly cramped, her arms ached from holding her voluminous skirts up, and she was having immense difficulty in catching her breath.

"And THAT," the Hatter panted out between gasps, "is why you should never wake a sleeping bandersnatch." He stooped over and rested his hands on his knees, head bent, breathing heavily.

"You could have just told me," she said, feeling her knees weaken considerably, "I wouldn't have been curious otherwise!" He gave her _that_ look, the one where his right eyebrow was raised high above the other and his mouth was positioned in a flat, straight line. "What?" she asked.

"Would you have been able to explain what just happened without enticing further curiosity?" he countered, prompting Alice to recall recent events, and shake her head, for she was rather tired of speaking between her heaving lungfuls of air and there were frankly few words she could have used to express herself anyway. Her knees finally tired of their work, and Alice sunk to the ground, grateful for the soft grass but thoroughly annoyed at the amount of fabric that had dragged her down in the first place.

"I really should have worn an artistic dress today," she mused aloud. The Hatter sank to her side with a sigh, his joints popping and cracking, and he let out a soft, "Ah!" of relief.

"You didn't know any better," he comforted, rolling onto his stomach, Alice following suit. The Hatter reached out for her left hand and took it in his, examining it closely. "That's a very nice ring you have there," he casually mentioned.

She smiled warmly, "It is, isn't it?" She shifted her hand, letting the ring glint in the sunlight.

The Hatter cleared his throat, "Whoever gave it to you must be a very lucky man, indeed."

Alice colored slightly and giggled, "Oh, I would say I'm pretty lucky as well."

"Really? How so?"

"It's not every day that your most beloved friend asks you to marry him," she explained. The Hatter merely grinned cheekily and kissed the top of her hand.

"I _could_ ask you every day, if you want," he murmured into her skin, his face full of a seriousness that let Alice know he was not joking around. She giggled yet again at the idea.

"And what about when we are actually married? What would you do then?" Alice questioned in a small attempt to rattle him.

He paused, carefully considering his next words, before shrugging, "I'd still ask." She shook her head and laughed some more, the Hatter joining in with her this time. They remained there for some time, laughing and grinning at each other all the while, the events of that morning slowly fading away.

"You're a silly man," she said, "But I do love you dearly for it." He held up her left hand, still clasped in his, to show her the ring, as if making a point.

"I know," was his reply, and then he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She sighed contentedly before laying her head down on her right hand, complete exhaustion from all the earlier running taking over. Alice listened as the Hatter continued chatting away, only half aware of what he said as she drifted in and out of conscience. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep for good was a small, whispered voice close to her ear:

"I love you, Lyss. Will you marry me?"

And just as her eyes fluttered shut, she whispered out, "A million times over."

The Hatter watched as she slept, then brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her cheek again. All of those unbirthdays had been certainly worth it.


End file.
